The Root of the Problem
by Graveygraves
Summary: Hotch is trying to help Reid pass his gun requalification. This story is linked to my story Deja Vu - you don't need to read it first, but it might help. It is a Pinchhit for CCOAC Challenge 9. Beta'd. Please let me know what you think.


**The Root of the Problem**

**This is a Pinch hit for Posionchik88, on CCOAC Challenge 9 March Madness. My pairing is Hotch and Reid with the prompt Quantum Leap.**

**This one shot is linked to the story Déjà Vu. If you haven****'****t read that then it is not important, but if you are part way through you might want to hold off on this one until you****'****ve finished.**

**Summary: In the wake of all that has happened Reid has failed his handgun requalification. Hotch is trying to support him through it.**

**. . . **

Reid slammed the gun down on the counter in pure frustration. Instead of improving, his aim was getting progressively worse throughout the session. They, Hotch and Reid, had been at the range just shy of an hour and Reid was more than willing to give up.

Hotch watched as Reid tried to mask the rush of emotions that were riding rough shot over him right now. In less than twenty-four hours Reid would be facing another requalification, and at this moment in time Hotch could honestly say Reid would fail.

Since Reid had failed the six monthly qualifications nearly a fortnight ago, Hotch had gone out of his way to practice in every spare moment they had. Perhaps that was the problem; he was piling too much pressure on. Equally he knew how important this was to Reid. What another fail would do to his already fragile confidence.

"Let's call it a day," Hotch sighed.

"No," Reid snapped, with renewed determination; picking up his revolver from the counter, loading it and taking aim once more.

Rapidly Hotch replaced his ears defenders. Watching shot after shot fall short of its intended destination. Hotch knew what he was doing wrong, and he knew Reid did too. But his aim wasn't the problem, it was purely a symptom.

Placing the gun back down, Reid sighed, his shoulders slumping as he removed the ear defenders. He didn't need to bring the target forward to see his score; it was miserably evident from a distance.

Hotch stepped forward, placing a hand on his colleagues rounded shoulder.

"You don't need me to tell you what is wrong with your technique."

"I don't follow through. Front sight...trigger press...follow through..." Reid recited the mantra Hotch had installed in him many years previous.

"Yes," Hotch added, dropping his arm down as he lent against the counter, facing Reid.

"Why do you bother? I'm making the same mistakes I did as a probationer. Why not just cut your losses?"

"Because I don't intend losing another excellent agent this year," Hotch stared at Reid willing him to look up at him, to see the sincerity in his eyes.

"I don't have to carry a gun to be a profiler."

"True," Hotch was worried where this was going, "Would you prefer that?"

"No, but if I have to . . ."

"You'll give up," Hotch finished for him.

"No," Reid shot back, looking up for the first time, "I just don't want to waste anymore of you time."

"Reid I am you Unit Chief, it is my job to support you in any way that I can," Hotch spoke calmly, "Now we both know that what is going wrong in this range is nothing to do with your aim. I know you are more than capable of making the shot when needed. What is happening here is something else, and I just wish you would let me help with whatever it is."

Reid looked across at Hotch, a childlike innocence on his face as his mouth twitched, unable to form the words that his mind was screaming.

It wasn't that he didn't want to tell Hotch, it was just he didn't know what to tell him. His mind was a mess - like someone had invaded it, turned it upside down and shaken it around and then left.

"Reid," Hotch continued, with a hint of urgency in his voice, "Unless your scores make a quantum leap overnight, you will fail again tomorrow. Now I can assure you that not one of your colleagues give a damn whether you carry a weapon or not. We each have our own strengths and that defines what we bring to the team. But right now Reid I am increasingly concern for you welfare."

"Are you saying I shouldn't be on the team?"

"No I am not," Hotch answered sternly, his eye brows knitted, "You are a valued member of the team, don't ever think you are not. In the time that I have known you, you have always been dedicated, thorough and exceptionally perceptive. I can only think of one other time when you have struggled."

"It's not that," Reid hissed, looking everywhere accept at Hotch, knowing he was referring to the unspoken addiction he had fought.

"Then what is it?" Hotch's forehead furrowed as his eyes bore through the younger agent, as if trying to read his mind.

"It's headaches. Migraines really," he confessed. "I have had all range of assessments but no one can give me a reason, an explanation. They think it's psychosomatic."

"You disagree," Hotch deduced.

"Yes. There has to be an explanation."

"Reid, you are young, you have seen and experienced things that many people your age have never, and probably will never. There has been a lot of pressure on you from the start. We bent the rules to get you into the BAU. Maybe we shouldn't have."

"Everything you are saying makes it sound like you don't think I can do my job." Reid's voice quivered slightly with pent up emotion, "It's all I have Hotch. This is my family."

"I appreciate that, and as your family, maybe we need to support you better, rather than expect you to deal with everything."

"I don't need babying."

"Reid, will you stop trying to turn around everything I say!" Hotch snapped, trying to remain patient, "Talking to someone is not a weakness, we all need someone to talk to. Even me."

Reid looked at Hotch, desperately wanting to ask him who he talked to, but didn't dare. Instead he just swallowed deeply.

Seeing Reid calm slightly Hotch decided to continue.

"This job gets to us all. Rossi returned to the bureau because he couldn't escape his nightmares, Morgan wreaks and rebuilds houses as his personal therapy, Garcia hides in her fantasy cyber worlds to avoid reality. Do I really need to continue? We are all human; you cannot do this job day in and day out without it impacting on you. If it doesn't, then it is definitely time for you to leave."

Reid pursed his lips, thoughts obviously flooding his mind.

"Reid, it had been another tough year for us all. As a team we have had a lot to deal with. We are all struggling."

Reid huffed, "but you're not having this conversation with Morgan."

"I have, he's had to tell me how he's feeling and I happy he is dealing with his emotions productively. He is not bottling them up. How you feel inside finds a release one way or another."

"I told Emily, about the headaches, just before she left."

Hotch paused, unable to say anything.

"I have also spoken to Morgan."

"Good, that's a start. I am here too, anytime Reid. Don't think talking to me will reflect negatively on you in anyway. In fact quite the opposite."

Reid looked down the range, watching the motionless paper target. Letting what Hotch said sink in. Picking up his gun once more, slowly and deliberately he loaded the bullets. Placing it down again, he replaced his ear defenders.

Hotch took a step behind Reid. Unsure if what he had said had registered in his already over packed head.

Reid picked up the revolver once more.

_Front sight._

_Trigger press._

_Follow through._

Reid lower his gun, he turned to Hotch, a nervous grin on his face.

Hotch smiled. Maybe an overnight quantum leap was possible.

. . .

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